Yesterday's Gone: Season Three (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER)

Dumfounded might be better.
    She held the spaghetti in her mouth, almost scared to chew too fast and miss a detail of flavor.
    The pasta in her mouth wasn’t just the best she’d had since October; it was the best meal she’d had period. And the aroma reminded her of a small Italian restaurant she used to eat at, which served the best food ever. And seeing how Boricio had “exactly dick and six curly ball hairs to work with,” the dish was that much more amazing.
    “Where did you learn to cook like this?” she asked Boricio.
    He shoveled a full fork, twisted full of pasta into his mouth, then answered. Red stained spittle slurred his speech. “I went to the Institute of Culinary Education in New York,” he said. “Spent six years perfecting my craft.”
    “Really?” Mary was shocked. Paola and Luca both looked up from their plates, their faces as filled with surprise as she imagined hers was.
    Boricio cackled then slapped the table. “Fuck no. Boricio don’t need no Rachel Ray to show him how to rip shit the fuck up. I learned how to cook by loving my taste buds like they were a perfect pair of titties, and I learned to cook by working in a million and one restaurants, making everything from grilled cheese to arepas.”
    “Arepas?” Paola said, before Mary could. “What’s that?”
    Boricio lit up. “Shit girl, your tongue is a crap pile until it’s tasted an arepa. They’re these corn-dough patties. Least that’s the canvas. Cheese and tomato and avocado and meats; shredded chicken, carnitas, steak; that’s all the paint. The dish is Venezuelan, and the most beautiful thing about the country outside of the bi..the boobies.” He smiled and took another bite of spaghetti and smiled.
    “You’ve never been to Venezuela have you?” Mary asked.
    “Do you need to see a pile of shit to know it stinks?”
    Mary was as shocked to find herself enjoying the last few verbal spars with Boricio as she was by the quality of his cooking. While she didn’t ever expect to lose the edge she felt while around him — or the anger for what he’d done — at the moment Mary thought Boricio seemed more loud than dangerous.
    She opened her mouth to challenge him, but was cut off by a sudden roar of motorcycles from outside. Boricio’s fork clattered on his plate and he bolted from the table, his back against the wall and his finger lifting the curtain as he peered outside a second later.
    “Get the fuck on the floor,” Boricio barked. “All of you!”
    They all hit the floor, Paola assisting Luca. Mary said, “What is it?”
    “Looks like we have ourselves an intruder alert at Boricio’s Clubhouse,” he said. “Too bad we can’t call in G.I. Fucking Joe.” Boricio clucked his tongue. “Ain’t no never mind. Looks like there’s four of them, and even with two bleeders and a feeb, that seems like an even match for Team Boricio.” He looked back out the window and whooped. “Holy shit, one of them thinks he’s King Fucking Arthur!”
    “What do you mean?” Mary whispered, her heart hammering inside her chest.
    Boricio was crazy enough to wear a smile.
    “Three of them fuckers are smart enough to come packing, two with sawed offs and another with what looks like a .45, though I’m not sure from here. But the biggest fucker is wearing a sword on his back like he’s goddamned He-Man!”
    Boricio laughed again.
    One of the bikes went quiet, then the other three followed, seconds apart. Boricio pulled his head from the window, dropped to a crouch, then started to whisper. “All right Team Boricio, it’s showtime. I’m gonna need you to hightail it upstairs and stay up there until I deal with the Dreadnoks. Take your guns but stay away from the windows. Keep your backs to the wall and shoot any fucker who comes into the room, in case something happens to me outside — which it won’t.”
    Boricio paused, then added, “They’ll be handing Pluto back its planetary status before four dumb bitches on bikes can fuck with ol’ Boricio.”
    “We have guns,” Mary said. “Why don’t we just shoot them from inside?”
    “I shouldn’t have to explain myself while death is waiting to be dealt outside, so I’ll just say this once and hope you’ve got your listening cap turned to high, Miss Mary.” He took another quick look outside, then turned his eyes to the three of them on the floor. “Never mind. They’re about to come inside this house. You all need to scoot your asses upstairs —